Chopped Liver – 3’s The Magic Number

Hepababe called it right the other day in her comment on one of my posts – these things tend to come in threes.

Last Tuesday, I had a bad fall in the house – wow – if you could see the bruise still on that today – it’s pretty impressive – even if I, shucks, say it myself. I hurt my hand, my hip and thigh. The hand swelled up, the hip turned blue – but the thigh continued to cause serious pain and restricted movement i.e. I couldn’t really walk much.

Then on Saturday I fell in a hole on a grass verge, twisting my ankle, landing on my sore hand, and hip – and wrenching my aching thigh. Since then I have not been walking too good – the thigh pain has been pretty bad – but no bruising – and I’m, sure no break – otherwise… well y’know I just wouldn’t … y’know… let’s just I’d have felt it just a tad more.

Today was Birmingham. I went up as a passenger. The weather was outrageous – if you follow the Ryder Cup … or even the news – you’ll know just how bad the rain was today – try driving in it! Actually, try being a passenger in it! Whether I am a good driver or not is open to opinion – but I can tell you something for nothing – I am a bad passenger!

Got to the meeting on time. It was a long meeting – all day. It was good – a meeting at thebestof Head Office. Thankfully it was indoors – it was torrential outside the whole time. Then it was time to go home.

We went along the motorway, barely able to see in front of us. Let’s not go into too much detail here – except to say there was a shriek from me of “Watch OUT!!!”. Followed by a slamming of brakes. And then the inevitable BOOM from behind and I feel my body is jolted forward.

left a bit... right a bit.. yep - should do it.

We got lucky. Modern cars seem to be made with spring bumpers – and, incredibly, no damage seemed to be done – to the car behind, the car we were in, the driver or myself.

No wait… Oooohhhhh Aaaahhhhhh!!!! the pain in my thigh just seemed to succumb to an aftershock – and is now seriously bothering me. I have hurt it for the third, and I hope, final time.

And for the next half hour or so, I am gripping and pressing down on my thigh to try and relieve the pain – and then… as if by magic – the pain subsides – we arrive home – and I can walk again – without the pain.

I think – I hope I am not tempting fate – the third impact of the week has jarred my skeletal structure back into place – the pain I have been enduring all week has been due to the thigh-bone being out of alignment – and I needed two good ole bashes to click me back into place.

If that’s true – and I believe it is – how bizarre is this life of ours? I’m not 100% sure that one should need to endure a motorway crash to rectify all body pains – but hey, it worked for me!

By the way, I think I also may be one lucky bastard.

Now there… are 3…. steps to… carry a donor card – ooh, wap wap!
Just follow steps 1, 2 and 3.

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3 Comments on “Chopped Liver – 3’s The Magic Number”

  1. hepababe Says:

    Happy? 200+!Glad you’re OK but I still think you need to buy a box of matches.Keep them away from Woody though!By the way,I think we have a very similar sense of houmour.Love your photo caption and still laugh about the Ayrshire bacon.I spent an afternoon reading all your blogs last week,thanks.

  2. hepababe Says:

    Woops,Weedy,Woody…Thats not his name.Wally…That IS my name.

    • davidkallin Says:

      Thanks hep, I am really really overwhelmed that you have taken the time to read all my blog posts – must’ve been a lot harder to do than write the bleedin’ things – and I’m sure Windy would be impressed too. Under Pressure.


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